Daddy
by KricketWilliams
Summary: After helping out a child, Morgan has one wish, and Garcia helps grant it. Sort of a sequel to the oneshot "Never Alone." As usual, I don't own a thing.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_AN:This story was born after I saw the episode "Remembrance of Things Past." That look Derek had on his face made me write "Never Alone."...That helped, but I still felt like I needed to write a little bit more...So that being said, I hope you like this for our hero..._

The generic, dryly decorated, beige walled office at the Department of Human Services was doing nothing to settle Derek Morgan's nerves. Neither was the equally bland, tight bunned, beige suited social worker sitting across from him. He was sure there was nothing wrong with Lena Matthews. She seemed nice enough, with her rather gentle smile and compassionate eyes, nearly hidden behind thick lensed, wire framed spectacles. It was all about her expression. It wasn't encouraging in the least.

In fact, it was rather sympathetic.

"Well, there are a lot of different options right now for you to explore, Mr. Morgan," Mrs. Matthews said, tapping her plain Bic® pen on the desk as she rifled through papers with those _options_.

He couldn't help but think there was something fundamentally wrong with a woman in children's services dressed like Mrs. Matthews was. Watching her, he thought that the woman should be dressed more like Penelope. This woman was the polar opposite of his Baby Girl. Penelope, with her colorful clothes, colorful glasses, even her colorful pens, exuded so much more energy, joy for life, and passion. Someone like her belonged in a career like this, instead of this bureaucrat with her starched white shirt and pasted on smile.

"I've looked at different avenues," he explained, shifting uncomfortably in his seat before he spoke again, "and I have come to the conclusion that foster care would be the best option for me."

She looked down her nose at him, then rifled through her papers and continued, "There are volunteer opportunities at youth centers in the DC area, as well as boys and girls—"

Derek bit back frustration. He didn't want to volunteer; he'd already done that. He didn't want to mentor; he'd done that, too. He didn't want to teach; he was still doing that with self defense classes.

No, what Derek Morgan wanted was to be a dad.

Ever since Ellie Spicer had left his life, he'd had a void he couldn't fill. Not that he wanted that particular little girl back; he was glad she was happy with her mother. She'd sent him emails and letters, letting him know she was okay and very happy. He wouldn't want to take joy away from an already happy family. Caring for Ellie, being there for her, made him realize he had a lot to give to a child in need.

After hearing about the atrocious conditions that Ellie had lived in at the so-called foster home she'd been at, he'd known he could do better. He could make kids happy. He'd always loved children, had a great bond with them, and gained their respect. He didn't know a whole lot about babies, but he wasn't looking for a baby. He wanted a school- aged kid with issues, maybe like he'd had growing up, that he could help raise up to their full potential.

Bottom line, he had a lot of love to give, and he wanted to be able to give it.

"I understand that," he interrupted. "Like I'd said, I've looked there."

The woman sighed in frustration with him, like he was thick headed. "Mr. Morgan, I seriously think you need to look again."

"Listen, lady—"

"No, _you_ need to listen, Mr. Morgan," she snapped, her voice sharp and lacking all of the compassion and sympathy she'd had earlier. "You work non-stop, you're a self-proclaimed workaholic married to your job who gets called away at all sorts of hours to God knows where to face God knows what. You put your life in danger repeatedly—a noble career choice, mind you, but reeking of instability. You don't have the time to volunteer, yet you want to raise a child under your roof."

He started to shrink back in his chair, actually letting what he didn't want to hear sink in this time. The woman had said similar things earlier in their conversation, but he'd had excuses and had refused to listen.

She calmed back down again, and her face regained that sympathetic look Derek was starting to really hate. "Derek, you are obviously a very good man, with a wonderful heart, that truly does care. I applaud you for that. You have an excellent home, plenty of room, and a nice dog...but I could not possibly recommend you to foster a child."

"What should I do, then?"

"Until you are more stable, you need to consider the other options," she replied.

"How can I prove I'm stable? People on my team have kids, and they do just fine," he retorted quickly, thinking of the obvious. If Hotch and JJ could do it-have _done_ it-so could he.

She sighed again. "But do they do it alone, Mr. Morgan? Completely by themselves, no other family members or significant others nearby?"

He growled in his throat and looked away. Hotch had Aunt Jessica, JJ had Will...he had Garcia—sort of … if she were available to help out when she wasn't out with her long-term boyfriend.

Grumbling, he asked sarcastically,"I suppose I could always get another dog if I feel I need to care for something?"

"Suit yourself," Mrs. Matthews said, then added seriously, "but I don't think you are home enough to care properly for a puppy, much less a child."

That knocked the wind out of his sails. He swallowed and sat up. "What do I need to do?"

"Stability, Mr. Morgan," she said. "You have a stable job, friends, a stable home, but you do not have the stability in your work that a child needs to thrive. With support, someone, perhaps, could handle it with your hours, but just one—"

Suddenly, Derek began to smile. He stood and shook the harridan's hand. "Thanks, Mrs. Matthews. You've opened my eyes."

The woman looked completely confused. "M-m-mr. Morgan?"

He turned and left the office, before dialing a number on his cell.

"Hey, Baby Girl," he said into the phone with a big grin on his face. "I'm getting married."

* * *

Penelope Garcia had just finished having lunch with her long time boyfriend, Kevin Lynch. She had somewhat of a headache now. Kevin had purchased a new video game over the weekend, and he'd been completely absorbed by it.

"Oh, Penelope! You are going to love playing this," he'd said, his voice nearly shrill with animation. "You're in Afghanistan, and you're a soldier on this rogue mission."

Penelope had known immediately with that description: she most certainly was NOT going to love that game.

She'd listened, her stomach churning, while Kevin had explained in detail every bloody, disgusting, violent thing that happened in the putrid game. He'd done so with a glazed passion in his eyes, a passion he only showed for video games. Nothing turned Kevin's crank quite like a new shoot 'em up game.

Penelope was the polar opposite. She was a pacifist who had to deal with that sort of thing at work, simply because she loved the people she worked with and the job. She could deal very nicely without seeing simulated violence, thank you very much.

But for some reason, her dear boyfriend could not get that through his head.

"Penelope!" he'd said, taking a bite of his peanut butter and bacon sandwich. "You saw the man's head explode, right? Completely obliterated the man's skull! It was gnarly!"

He'd grinned and nodded at her, so very excited.

She'd sighed, putting down her fruit salad she'd been trying to eat for dessert. She'd even smiled a little; he was kind of boyishly cute when he was so thrilled over his toy.

She'd looked at her phone. One new message. She'd tried to retrieve it while K-dog had blathered, but she couldn't do it. She had to wait until she was at the office.

So now, she stood at her machine and pushed the button...

And nearly passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews, everyone...This was on such a different keel than "The Book", it seemed like the perfect follow-up...You all know; I try to be versatile!...Now, a little more in the thick of the story..._

"Derek Morgan, you better explain yourself when you call back, because, if I recall correctly-and I _always_ recall correctly- you are not even dating anyone at the moment!"

That sentence was said in a rush; she had to take a deep breath after spitting all of those words out. She was actually much more calm than she was an hour ago, and that was no small feat. She was rather proud of herself.

"So, mister," she huffed, pouting although he couldn't see her, "call me pronto, before you send me into another apoplexy from shock!"

Married. Derek. The words together seemed like an oxymoron. He'd never mentioned getting married. Not once yesterday when they'd been at lunch, not the day before that at the dog park with Clooney, not once when they'd watched a movie last Friday, not when they met six years ago, not three years ago at Angelo's Pizza talking about dates...

Not once. Not ever.

She didn't know why it bothered her so much that he said that. It wasn't the semantics of him getting married. Truthfully, she _wanted_to see Derek happy and settled with someone like she was. He was her bestest friend in the world, nothing was going to change that. He had so much to give. He was loving, caring, sweet and good. She knew he'd make a great husband to some extremely lucky woman someday.

The more she thought about it, she determined it was the thought of him keeping a secret like that, something huge, from her. It hurt to think of that. They shared everything.

Derek's knock on their adjoining wall signaled that he was back.

She waited impatiently for him to arrive, and nearly shouted before he got his foot in the door, "What in the stars was that call all about?"

He was grinning like a fool at her. "Nothing. I'm just going to get married."

"To who?" she growled impatiently.

"No one you know...yet," he answered smoothly.

That look on his face...She knew he was glorying in ruffling her feathers a wee bit.

"Cut the cryptic, sweet cheeks, and tell me what is going on?"

He smiled again, but this time, it wasn't teasing. It was a sad little smile, wistful and bittersweet, like she'd seen only rarely with him before. He'd had it in Alaska, right after he'd hugged her, telling her he kinda loved her. That smile. It tugged on her heart like nothing else in this world.

He took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm going to start at the beginning, okay?"

She nodded. "Good place to start."

"Remember Ellie Spicer?"

She frowned a little. "Of course...Is she okay, Derek?"

"Oh, she's doing wonderfully," he answered, smiling again with his puppy dog eyes and heartrending smile.

"I'm glad," she said, her tone questioning. Those eyes of his weren't matching his grin; something was definitely off. She took a seat across from him, leaning forward. "What is this about, sugar?"

He looked at her with an expression she'd never seen him have before. He was biting his bottom lip, and half smiling. It was such an odd look, it took awhile before she realized what it was.

Derek was _nervous_.

He stayed looking at her, opened his mouth to speak, then chuckled.

It was contagious; he was making her feel nervous, and she hated that feeling.

"Go on, honey," she growled.

He sighed. "I want to be a foster dad."

Now she stared at him, then slowly leaned back into the chair. She was glad she sat; this was a lot to take in. Her playboy, bachelor, new girl every ten days best friend wanted a house full of children? She knew he wanted that someday, but now? What happened to rush this?

She started with the obvious question. "Okay...since when?"

He smiled softly. "Since Ellie. Since knowing the conditions Ellie was in. Since placing her back with her mother." Picking up the paper cup of coffee on his desk, he took a sip, then held it out to her. "Want some?"

She accepted the cup, took her sip, then said, "Go on."

"I realized that Ellie was the lucky kid. That that foster home with those so called parents still had numerous kids I couldn't save, I couldn't help." He was frowning now in concentration as he peered at her. "It gave me insomnia again, P. I already sleep badly enough, but that..."

"Hot Stuff," she murmured, reaching for his hands that were folded on his desk. "You can't save the world. I know you want to, but you can't."

"No," he answered, holding her hand, his thumb tracing patterns on the back while he continued speaking, "but I can make it better for a couple of them-and they can make it better for me, too."

She looked confused. "How?"

His thumbs stopped patterning, and instead, he held her hand tightly. "Baby, I have so much love to give. I've always wanted to be a dad, give my mom lots of grandkids, but I'm pushing forty. I don't need babies-"

Penelope's mind immediately began to imagine beautiful brown-eyed, chubby cheeked Derek Morgan babies, and her heart began to pound at the love she felt for them. He was right; he'd be an excellent father. She'd spoil his kids rotten. He'd have little girls that fell in love with their daddy, and little boys that were tough and strong like he was. He'd play catch with them, take them fishing and campi-

"Baby Girl?" he asked, waving a hand in front of her.

"Wh-What?" She immediately shot a glance back at him and sat straight up.

He was smirking at her. "Did I lose you there, angel? You looked kind of far away."

"Oh, no, no," she lied. "Continue."

He nodded, then went on speaking, "Anyway, so that's what I need to get approved for foster care."

_Oh, man_, she thought, feeling massively embarrassed. She'd missed a huge chunk of that while daydreaming!

"Ummm," she mumbled. "Can you repeat that?"

"Repeat what?"

"Sweet Cheeks, I missed it," she said flatly. "What do you need to get approved?"

"A wife," he responded in a matter-of-fact manner.

She snorted. Only a man would make it that simple!

"Ah, cupcake?" she asked archly. "Don't you need to fall in love and all that before you get one of those?"

"No," he answered.

She frowned. "Derek-"

"If Miss Right isn't here for me, ready to go, after searching for her for almost _twenty years_, then chances are, I'm not going to find her," he said flatly, shrugging his shoulders. "I just want someone nice, someone who is good company, who loves kids, and would be a great companion."

"I have a great aunt who fits that description," she mused sarcastically. "She's eighty."

He shot her a chastising look, and she had the good graces to hang her head a little.

He smiled and continued, then, "I'm going to look through my old girlfriends and see if anyone is marriage material. I know back then I wasn't ready to get married and settle down when some of them were. I'm hoping that maybe they're still ready now."

"I think you're going about this the wrong way," she cautioned, shooting him a warning seemed like an awful plan to her.

"Sorry, honey," he answered. "I want to live my life. I'm pushing forty, I'm alone ninety percent of the time, and everyone else has someone. I want someone to share my life with, some kids to give my time to, before it's too late and I'm left wondering."

Suddenly, she was feeling rather sorry for him. She'd never had that before. She didn't like that feeling. "Hot Stuff, I just think you deserve...better."

"Sweetheart, waiting for the perfect woman to be ready for me isn't doing any good." He grinned at her and stood, coming over to her side of the desk to help her stand. "Besides, you're taken, right?"

He folded her into his arms, and she accepted his hug. She buried her face in his chest, surrounding herself with his wonderful, familiar warmth and delicious, woodsy, spicy smell. Being with Derek, she always felt safe, secure...like she was home, even a thousand miles away, like when she was in Alaska. He supported her, cared for her always.

She needed to support him, no matter what.

She gave a soft laugh, and pushed away from his chest. "Yeah. Now, skedaddle, Sweet Cheeks, or I'll never get any work done."

He smiled at her, his melted chocolate eyes twinkling hopefully, making her heart ache. She hoped this worked...for his sake.

"Thanks, Baby Girl, for the ear."

He chucked her under the chin softly, then walked out of her office.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews! I don't think I will be able to post for a couple of days-got some things going on-so surprise! Double post today..._

It wasn't going very well.

Derek hadn't realized until he'd started this quest how many extremely ineligible women he dated. Oh, they were eligible for fun, eligible for a good time, eligible for a fast fuck, but none he'd gone out with so far were even _remotely_ close to being a good candidate for being a mother to his children.

He'd thought he had a system that even Reid would think was well organized...

He had two little address books—ironically, neither were black in color—that he used for dating. The first book he'd tossed out completely. They were the most ineligible of the ineligible women. He had a rating scale, and those women rated on the scale from either very easy to downright kinky. He rarely went out with the bunch in that first book, but every once in a while…well, even a player gets desperate!

The second book, his more normal girlfriends, were his most real options. He'd had longer relationships with them. He remembered they were all pretty, all nice, all single and fun. Usually, he couldn't exactly remember why they broke up, but he thought the majority he had parted amicably from. That seemed more important to him than the semantics of the break up.

He tried Tasha Alexander first. Tasha had been a girlfriend from back when he first started in the FBI in 2003. She'd been athletic (he'd grinned when he saw his side note: _34-24-34_) and—if he recalled correctly—pretty funny. He'd been hoping that maybe she would want to rekindle a relationship.

_"Hello?"_

_Derek smiled. She had a beautiful voice, too. He hadn't remembered that. "Tasha? It's Morgan. Derek Morgan."_

_"Derek! How nice to hear from you!" She paused, and then shouted, "Aiden! Christopher! Get off the couch."_

That lead him to finding out Tasha Alexander was now Tasha Cartwright, was married, and had three lovely children.

That finding had driven him to cross off anyone he hadn't dated in seven years.

The next woman he'd tried had been Antoinette Colbert. Toni had been a fun person to date. He'd gone out with her just two years ago. She'd seemed like a decent person and had a nice laugh. He'd called, his hopes up.

_"Hi, Derek. What have I been up to?" She giggled her adorable laugh. "About two hundred, right now!"_

_"Huh?"_

_She giggled again. "I'm nine months pregnant! My husband Tom and I are expecting twins."_

That lead him to Denise Dansing. He'd called her number and found out she'd moved to Florida.

When he made it to the L's with four more pregnancies, three more moves, two more marriages, one _prison sentence _(he _really_ wasn't expecting that—Heidi Hellerman was a gentle nurse!), he started thinking he should have Garcia run everyone in his black books through her background checks for eligibility!

Dana Laurente. He hadn't remembered her at all, but he'd tried her out of pure desperation. He'd dialed the number.

_"Derek." _

_At __first, there__ was complete silence...and __then—far__, far too __late—he__ remembered ____exactly__ why __he hadn't called Dana__ back._

_Soon, all hell broke loose. "Wow. I can't believe ____you__ would have the nerve to call! __You—"_

_He sat there, listening. He admittedly deserved it. He'd dated Dana...and her twin sister at the same time. He couldn't tell the difference! After much backpedaling, he finally got off the phone, and nearly threw his book in the trash._

He'd decided not to give up hope compeltely. He'd narrowed it down to women he'd dated in the past year, and it still looked terrible. Mostly because the women he'd dated in the past year were from book number one...

The main problem was Derek didn't date women for relationships. He had a relationship for emotional warmth and stability—a best friendship with Garcia. He didn't need to find that caring and compassion in a lover. Everything else was emotional strings he could rarely afford to nurture.

Primary example was Tamara Barnes. He'd tried to go out with her, he'd promised to call her back and make a relationship, and he'd failed miserably. He didn't have the time, and he hadn't made the time. Derek hated failing, so he chose girlfriends based on how they could pleasure him, not their affect on his heart.

It wasn't a huge loss, anyway. The women he'd dated rarely made any impact on his heart. Only one woman—besides his blood relatives—loved him unconditionally, and therefore, was the only one who really counted.

He'd finally found a few women still eligible...who were completely wrong after he went out with them. A last ditch effort, tonight he was set to go out with Katherine Wagner. Kitty was a gorgeous redhead who'd been fantastic in bed and, if he remembered right, seemed genuine enough.

Then he'd called her on the phone.

"_Derek, I'm sooooo glad you called," she moaned, her voice a low purr of pure sexuality. "This Kitty really needs your style of loving. Ready to stroke a Kitty, Derek?"_

He'd done what he'd never done before…he'd hung up on a woman.

He'd forgotten completely what she was like. He'd only been out with her three times, and then for some reason, he'd stopped calling her. He couldn't remember why. It was right after he...

It was after Alaska.

Garcia had witnessed a murder, and he'd been there to hold her and help her pick up the pieces. He'd understood what had happened up there, what happened to her as a person, far more than anyone else. Derek had been too busy with Garcia to foster any relationship—even a purely sexual one. She'd needed him, and he'd been more than happy to be there for her.

Now, after four disastrous dates with women only slightly better than Kitty, and what felt like a million horrible phone calls, Derek felt truly alone.

Turning around in his chair, he took the picture of Garcia off his shelf and took a good look at it. She'd gone home for the day, and he really, seriously needed someone to talk to. He didn't want to call her and bother her, she couldn't do anything at eight pm on a Thursday, anyway.

It was a desperate thing to do, but no one was ever going to see. He held her picture, looked her straight in the eyes like he would if she were there...and he poured his heart out.

"Baby Girl, I'm floundering. For the first time in my adult life, I don't have a clue what to do. Every one of my past girlfriends are completely wrong. I picked miserably. None of them are a wife candidate, much less a mom candidate." He swallowed hard and put the picture down. "Hell. With my past, I guess I'm not really a daddy candidate, either."

He picked the picture back up so he could put it back in it's place. He gave a short chuckle. "Hey, momma, wanna look that up in your computer, see if you can work your magic with it and fix me?"

As he reached for the shelf, he stopped in his tracks completely as an idea struck.

_Computer._

_Computer dating._

_Garcia._

"Oh, hell, yes," he said with a grin, before picking up his phone and dialing her number.

* * *

"Hot Stuff, why are you still—_Kevin, the pizza is burning!_—why are you still in the office?" she asked. She watched as her boyfriend continued to play _Call of Duty_, not acknowledging her words at all.

Scoffing, she stood, heading towards his kitchen, and opened the now smoky oven, while Derek spoke.

"I'm going to go on a computer dating site."

She paused, reaching for the scorching hot pizza. "Ow!" she cried, sucking on her first finger that touched the hot cheese.

"What? Baby, you okay? What happened?"

"Nothing," she answered, smiling a little at Derek's panicky tone. The man was a worrywart sometimes! "Burned my finger. No big deal."

"Put it up to the phone, and I'll kiss it," he said.

She giggled. "Silly boy. It's all good. Now, what is up with you? Computer dating? Derek, you've never had a problem getting—"

"I've never had a problem picking the wrong girls, angel," he quipped. "That is where the computer website comes in handy. They choose for me—but I have an even better idea."

She felt a foreboding feeling come over her. She had a feeling that whatever he was going to say next wasn't going to be great in her book. "Okay…"

"I was thinking if I found a match, I could go on a double date with you, and you can—"

"Derek, I am _so_ not picking a woman for you!" she interrupted vehemently. The man was _insane_!

"You wouldn't be picking; you'd just give me your general consensus."

"D—"

"If you saw the women I've been through, you'd see why my confidence is shaken," he said flatly. He waited a minute, then sighed and said softly, "Baby, this matters so much to me. I need you. Please."

Penelope sighed. She closed her eyes, thinking that this was indeed a terrible idea. Still, she couldn't say no. He'd been there for everything she'd ever needed, far more than Kevin, far more than JJ or Emily. He'd even offered to kiss her new owie on her finger…and Kevin hadn't said a word, even though she'd screamed loudly.

Bottom line: he was her best friend. He needed her. End of story.

"Frack," she grumbled.

Derek laughed and hooted. "_I knew_ you'd be on board! Thanks, Baby Girl."

She giggled in spite of herself. "Just let me know when we're going."

"Goodnight, angel," he murmured. "I love you."

"I love you, too, D."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews, everyone...I hope you are enjoying this...I don't know why, but I can so totally see these two sitting there, doing this...Seemed really "Them" to me..._

"Okay. Now what do I do?"

Derek was sitting on his couch, in front of his coffee table, in his spacious living room. His laptop was open, waiting for him to type something. Penelope loved his house; he had gorgeous vaulted ceilings and a wall of windows that let in the view of his backyard. It could lead to the room being chilly, but he had a fireplace that he usually had roaring, and right now, had two glasses of red wine sitting too close to the laptop for her comfort.

"Well, what is it asking you?" she answered her perplexed friend, before moving the wine glasses. He was filling out the survey of what he was like for the computer dating site—things like his interests, his hobbies. He was frowning intensely at the screen; Derek was not big on sharing personal information, so this had to be killing him.

He sighed grumpily, and then clicked a button. He smiled then. "Oh. Eye color. That one's easy. Brown."

"Dark chocolate brown with hints of caramel around the pupils," she said.

He turned and stared at her, and then the corner of his mouth went up in a half-smile.

"What?" she replied. "I'm trying to think of a way to make your eyes sound better than just plain brown."

"Okay," he answered back with a grin, "she with the finely aged, potent whiskey brown eyes."

That earned him a grin back. "Keep reading."

"Eye color: brown. Hair: black..."—he paused to grin at her again—"...when I have it. Build: athletic..."

"That's a vast understatement." She smirked at him, wiggling her eyebrows lecherously. "Build: _Adonis-like_."

He rolled his eyes. "Six one, two hundred. Shoe size: twelve." He looked up at her in question. "Why in the hell do they want my shoe size?"

She shrugged, but blushed. She'd heard rumors of correlations between penis size and shoe size.

He must not have noticed her blush. He simply shrugged back, and went back to typing. "Astrological sign:Gemini. Date of birth: June sixth, seventy-three."

"Age: Old fart..." she teased, letting her voice trail off.

He sighed pathetically. "Don't I know it."

She slugged his arm teasingly. "Me, too."

He grinned. "I got you by a few years."

"Very few."

He shot her his smile. "Nonsense, _Baby_ Girl."

She tsked her tongue dramatically. "Robbing the friendship cradle, sugar," she said, shaking her head with mock condemnation.

"Yep." He looked back at the screen and hit a button. "That's the preliminary stuff. Now, my interests and hobbies."

"Sports," she said quickly.

He laughed. "That's it?"

She nodded.

He gave her a quirky smile and then frowned a little, relaxing back into his leather couch. "What else?"

"More sports," she added bluntly. He really was a one track mind when it came to athletics. He was always watching sports, doing sports, talking sports, but she knew he liked other things, too.

"That's all you see in me?" he asked with a short laugh. "Woman, I love music, dancing, family get togethers, nature, fishing."

"I was just teasing, sugar lump." She tucked her legs under herself and then picked up the laptop. "Okay. Tell me more, and I'll type for you."

"All right," he said, looking relieved.

She snickered. Computers were not one of his interests.

"I like reading the classics," he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I love good old movies from Hollywood's Golden Age."

She looked up at that. "You do? We always watch some action movie together."

"We usually pick a movie together, and we see something we wanted to see in the theater, but my favorite movie is _A Streetcar Named Desire_."

She gave him a thoughtful smile. "Really? _A Streetcar Named Desire_?"

"Yeah, Brando killed that role. It was fantastic." He cocked his head to the right. "Didn't I tell you that?"

She stared at him for a second, like she was looking at him with new eyes. She blinked for a second. Maybe she was? "Yeah, he did. I like that movie, too."

"I like most card games...as long as I'm not playing Reid."

She laughed. "That's true for anybody."

"And you can put sports in there, too," he teased, pointing at the computer.

She shook her head, still smiling. "Yep." She took a sip of her wine, before putting it back on the table. "How about hobbies?"

He shrugged again. "I don't have time for hobbies."

"Fixing houses?" she asked helpfully.

He slugged his wine down in one big gulp, and then said, "No. That's for stress relief, nothing more than that."

"Baby, that is a hobby," she explained. "So is exercise, reading—"

He arched a brow and added seriously, "Having sex?"

"You want book one caliber people?" she asked archly.

He shuddered. He'd told her about his disastrous calling and dating before this.

"I'm teasing," she said, shoving his arm playfully.

Smiling warmly, he added, "How about talking to my sweetheart sitting here?"

She made a face. "Probably not that one; they might get the wrong idea. Rather say, _conversing with friends_."

"Yeah," he said. "I don't want them to think I'm trying out for a harem!"

She smirked at him, thinking he kind of had one of those for a few years, and then asked a few other questions before she submitted the survey and moved to the next one.

"Oh," she said, paling a bit. "You should probably do this one alone..."

"Why?" he asked, his brows meeting together in a frown.

"It's what you want in a woman. That's personal."

"No...no." he said quickly. "I want your help. I've made shitty decisions, P. I need your help."

She'd really been hoping he wouldn't want her help with this part. It felt strange, helping Derek pick out a wife in the first place, much less knowing exactly what he wanted. She only knew two things starting this, and she wanted to keep it that way.

One: The women were going to need to be gorgeous...and limber.

Two: Someone like her was not on the list.

"Hair color preference?" she asked blandly.

"Doesn't matter. Blonde, redhead, brunette." He reached over and tweaked a curl of hers. "I'm partial to red right now."

She smiled wickedly. "Fine. I'll put in steel gray."

"Be nice," he said.

"Eye color, height, build?"

"Doesn't matter for eyes. Height...over five feet; I don't want to crouch to kiss. And build doesn't matter, either. As long as she takes care of herself and is happy. I don't have a type, rea—" He was interrupted by her scoff. "What?"

"Derek, you've only dated model thin, tall, gorgeous women," she retorted flatly. "You most certainly have a type. Don't give me that crap."

"_That_ is bullshit," he snapped. "I've dated women shorter, rounder, taller, thinner. Recently, I asked Andrea Parker in Vehicle Identification out for a date, and I was _shot down_. I am not a size bigot."

Penelope blinked for a second. Andrea was a good two sizes bigger than her. Very pretty, very nice … Why on earth would she shoot him down?

Then she thought about it. Andrea probably thought like she did—that she wasn't his type and he was screwing around with her...or that others would think he wasn't serious. To tell the truth, she wouldn't have guessed he liked someone like Andrea. She thought about her own thinking in the past, and felt terrible about what the implications of that were now. She flushed, and her stomach hurt.

Derek wasn't the size biggot...She was.

"I-I'm sorry," she said quickly.

"No, I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to tear into you like that." He pulled her into his arms and tipped her chin up to look at him. "We cool?"

She smiled, straightened up, and said, "Let's keep going."

A few moments later, Penelope knew that Derek was looking for a kind, friendly, confident woman between the ages of twenty-eight and forty, who could look like anyone, had similar interests as him, who loved her family, and really loved children. She could think of a million women right now who met that criteria...and she disliked each one of those lucky bitches who could possibly get him.

Because sitting here, listening to Derek talk, getting to know him even better than before, she was reassured of what she'd already known...

Derek Morgan was the finest man she'd ever known.

"Thanks, sugar," he said as he walked her to the door. He pulled her into his arms again and kissed her cheek softly. "I owe you a million. Wish me luck."

"You're not going to need luck, Hot Stuff," she answered truthfully. "I'm going to have to beat the bad ones away with a stick."

He laughed loudly. "Yeah. That's why I've been so successful in the dating realm lately."

She shook her head and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Goodnight, Derek."

He opened the door. "'Night, Baby Girl."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_AN: Thank you for the reviews. I have the day off today, been out with family, so I just sneaked onto the site..., you're close LOL...although not quite a million hits!..._

"Get dressed," she grumbled to Kevin for the fifth time that evening. He was supposed to be getting ready to go a double date with Morgan and Princess14, some woman from the _meetyourmatch_ site. She'd arrived a half hour ago, and he hadn't even started getting ready. He was trying to finish some level of the game he was playing, and it was irritating the bejeezers out of her.

"Kevin!" she snapped again.

Kevin gave her an absentminded grunt and continued to blow the heads off of some rogue soldiers.

"Kevin Arnold Lynch, if you don't get up and get dressed like yesterday, we_ will _be late, I _will_ be embarrassed, and then you don't want to know what I _will_ do to your GUI!"

He turned to look at her, his glasses askew from his concentration he'd had on his game, and then his eyes widened. "You serious?"

She was standing, her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

"Yes, ma'am!" he answered, jumping to his feet, before hustling as fast as his Lynchy legs could carry him to his bedroom.

She grinned. She still had it—the ability to make men jump to do her bidding.

"I don't understand why we are going with Morgan on a date anyhow," he whined from the other room. "It makes no sense. A guy like him wouldn't have any problems picking up chicks."

"He doesn't want a _chick_, Kevin," she said, glancing at her watch. "He wants a wife, and he wants our opinion on it."

"Ha!" he guffawed loudly, his voice a little muffled. She assumed he was pulling on the sweater she'd picked out. "Derek Morgan has never wanted my opinion in his life!"

That was completely true. Derek was not fond of Kevin. Rather, he tolerated him, and Kevin merely tolerated Derek, too.

"Well, he wants my opinion; you're coming along as moral support."

Kevin walked out of the bedroom. His maroon sweater and black turtleneck actually made him look quite dapper. He tugged at the collar. "I don't like this."

She came closer and kissed his cheek. "You look wonderful, dear. Please wear it? It's an upscale restaurant."

He sighed, and then smiled off kilter at her. "The things I'll do for love."

She laughed. "My hero. Come on. We need to go."

* * *

Tia's, a beautiful Italian restaurant on the other side of town, was not exactly hopping with people. It was a Thursday evening; Derek had posted his profile on Sunday with Penelope, and had over one hundred hits.

"Damn...there's a lot of women to sort through," he'd grumbled the next day to Penelope.

"With your picture and that profile, I'd expect that," she'd answered.

He'd snorted. "Seems like a lot of work."

"For a wife?" she'd asked, incredulously. "I don't think so..."

That had made him quiet.

He'd sorted out a bunch of women (One was Kitty Wagner!) and picked five that seemed suitable. He'd thought about calling Penelope to give him a hand, but wisely decided against it. P had helped him far more than her duty of friendship required her to.

So, that lead him to sitting with Alice Turner. Pretty, a dance instructor, very nice; she was good company so far. Lynch and Penelope were ten minutes late, so he got a chance to chat with her a little bit more than he'd originally planned. She seemed nice, kind of simple in nature, nothing too dramatic or glaring. She was friendly, and she loved children. Two major selling points.

"So, Alice," he said with a smile. "What is your average weekend like?"

"Not much," she replied, picking up her glass of wine and taking a sip. "I work, teaching the little ones, and then I try to get in some yoga. I love to do yoga. I am into nature and peace."

"That's great." He shrugged a little. "I wish I had a little more peace in my life. Working in law enforcement, you rarely get that sort of feeling."

Alice looked stricken. "You poor dear. We all need peace—it is as essential as air, water, and sunlight to our well being."

Derek laughed. "I'm lucky I get the air part on most days."

"Here," she said, reaching for his arm. "I know the perfect midday mediation for you. Close your eyes...do it, please...and relax. Let your facial features just lose all tension. Let your mouth drop open, your tongue become loose, thick, no stress...and deep breathe."

He was following what Alice said, breathing in, breathing out, and not really feeling much different. He must not have needed to relax.

He opened his eyes. "I don't—"

"Concentrate on relaxing, Derek," she murmured, her eyes closed, her mouth still open.

Although he thought it was silly, he tried again. He relaxed his face, his shoulders, let his mouth hang wide open—

"Hot Stuff, what are you doing?"

Derek snapped his mouth closed and looked up at Penelope and Lynch. Penelope looked amused, and Lynch looked confused.

"Relaxing," he answered, eyes twinkling. "What does it look like I was doing?"

She beamed at him. "I won't answer on grounds that it may incriminate me."

"See? Versed in law enforcement," he said, looking at Alice. "This is Penelope Garcia, my best friend, and her boyfriend, Kevin Lynch."

"I am so pleased to meet you," Alice said, sticking her hand out quickly to Penelope. She gave her a very hearty handshake and then stood and gave her a hug. "You are a wonderful person; I can tell by your aura!"

Derek stood also while Lynch pulled out Pen's chair. After they all sat, he glanced over at Penelope, who gave him an odd smile. He didn't quite like that smile; he could tell there was an issue-there was something she wasn't liking-but he'd figure it out later.

_Oh well,_ he thought. _Maybe it will get better as the night progressed?_

"Shall we?" he asked hopefully, as he reached for his menu and opened it.

* * *

"I still can't believe that woman," Penelope mused to Kevin. "She was weird!"

"I thought she was very nice," he grumbled. For the entire seven minute walk to the car, and the fourteen minutes they'd been driving, Penelope had been mentioning the demerits of Alice.

Penelope rolled her eyes, although Kevin was driving and couldn't see her. "She was _weird_, Kevin. It started with that hug, and then all those mystical aura things—"

"She's into yoga," Kevin interrupted. "And she only mentioned it twice. Mine and yours."

"Three times, " she corrected. Penelope crossed her arms over her chest. "She said our auras didn't mix, too. What kind of thing is that to say? If there is such a thing, I am sure ours mix just fine, thank you very much."

Kevin sighed with a exasperated chuckle. "Penelope, she's a gorgeous airhead, who is probably very limber. Perfect for Derek Morgan." He looked over at her. "Let it be, okay?"

Her lips pinched into a thin line, and her head began to ache. The woman was a dipsy doodle. She had no idea about current events, looked completely lost when she asked about her teaching career, and stared off into space when anyone brought up something besides the weather. She could _not_ let Derek end up with someone that flighty and unbalanced. He deserved better than that; he deserved someone smart...and limber and gorgeous. It would be against the code of best friendship if she let him marry some spaced out ditz.

"No, I'm sorry, but no," she answered flatly. "That dipstick and Derek do not mesh."

Kevin sighed again, louder this time. "I supposed that means I am going on another date with Morgan and one of his women."

She smiled at Kevin. "I hope you know I appreciate this, too."

"What will you give me for it?" he asked, a smirk on his face.

She lowered her lashes. "What would you like?"

"Oooh! _Left for Dead 2_!"

Penelope simply stared at him for a long moment, before sitting back in her seat and closing her eyes. "Consider it done."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_AN:Sorry, loyal and wonderful reviewers and readers. I have been really putzy on updating. Real life has been in the way...My sincere apologies and humble gratitude...Also, I can see your reviews online, but they're not coming to my email. I am not trying to disregard, I promise to catch up when I get them!_

Penelope's head was throbbing. She was ready to go on the fourth double date with her best friend and her boyfriend. He had absolutely abysmal taste in choosing women. It was sad—such a perfect, wonderful, gorgeous specimen of a man should be able to find _someone_ decent!

These women he was choosing, the _suitable_ ones, were not very suitable, as far as Pen was concerned. Each one was an abomination to womanhood, and certainly not Derek caliber. No way in hell.

First, there was Air-Headed Alice, the yoga queen with the bizarre aura ability. She hadn't thought there could be worse out there, but she'd been wrong. Derek had come up with two more winners for two more painful Thursdays at Tia's.

Brianna Butler, girl number two, had prominent front teeth. So prominent, she'd whistled when she talked. Derek hadn't seemed to notice, or it hadn't bothered him; he'd laughed at her jokes and was very charming to the woman, like usual. However, Pen was looking out for his best interests and knew that would drive him crazy after a while.

Then, to add on to the problem, Brianna had joked around too much. She'd laughed at the most inappropriate times...

_"Penelope, this is Brianna," Derek said, gesturing towards Penelope. "Brianna, my best friend, Penelope."_

_"Hahaha! Pleased to meet you!"_

_Penelope gave her an odd look. "Nice to meet you, too."_

_"This, haha, is a nice restaurant," Brianna said as the server showed up at the table._

_"May I take your drink order?" the server said._

_"Shhhhure!" Brianna returned with a whistle, and immediately started guffawing. "Oops! Shorry!"_

"It wasn't a guffaw," Kevin had said in the car later. "It was a nervous titter of laughter."

"Tittering is quiet," she'd replied, glaring at her boyfriend. "That woman was louder than a foghorn."

He hadn't argued back. Instead, he'd stared solemnly at the road. Kevin didn't enjoy discussing Derek's relationship woes.

Next was Suzannah Forrester. She'd been lovely, petite...and _extremely_ outspoken. A loud and opinionated woman with a loud mouth, she'd had a stance on everything.

_"I'd love a glass of pinot noir," Penelope said to their __waiter—the same__ waiter as last __time—with__ a smile._

_"Pinot grigio would be better with the fish that you ordered," Suzannah said. "In the coastal regions where that grape is grown, fish and poultry are the traditional dishes served with Grigio, whereas the darker body of noir is meant to be enjoyed with a fuller flavored meat, like steak."_

_"But I like red."_

_Suzannah shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just saying."_

A little more into the meal, Penelope had realized Suzannah thought she knew everything, and considered herself an expert on everything, too.

"That woman was a wizard, Penelope," Kevin had retorted later in the car. "She was beyond fast witted. Interesting person."

In conversations with her over that dinner, Penelope found out she had the same IQ as Reid, so she really _did_ know quite a lot. However, whereas Reid had quiet dignity, this woman had seemed like a braggart to Penelope.

"I didn't like her," Pen had answered with a shake of her head.

"I didn't think you would," Kevin had countered, continuing to scowl.

So, tonight, she was in the car, driving with her boyfriend to meet her best friend and Tasha Wells. Kevin was not pleased. He was wearing the same turtleneck and sweater he wore every time they went out to this place, and he hadn't even bothered to comb his hair.

"What difference does it make what I look like?" he'd muttered when she asked him about it. "We're never going to see this woman again after tonight anyway."

Kevin was in a terrible mood, and it affected how Penelope felt. Her head ached, her heart was sore, and her spirits were down. She knew Kevin wanted her to just give Morgan the _A-OK _for one of these women, but she couldn't do it in good conscience.

"Please don't be mad, Kevin," she said softly. "I know Derek would do the same for me."

He snorted and looked at her, nearly swerving off the road. When he'd righted the car, he scoffed, "Derek Morgan wouldn't get involved in your love life like you're doing for him. He's too self-centered."

Penelope wanted to argue with him, but she thought it wasn't worth wasting her breath. The Derek she knew was kind, generous, loving, and thoughtful. When Kevin was in this sort of mood, which was a lot lately, it was best to just back off.

They arrived at the restaurant and saw Derek and his pretty date sitting in the corner where he'd sat every time he did this. She was a brunette this time and looked very demure.

After thirty minutes, Penelope realized Tasha was the polar opposite of Suzannah. She'd barely made a noise, like a little mouse. Derek was again being the consummate gentleman, attempting to make conversation with the woman, but she just wasn't biting.

"So, Tasha," he said, smiling. "You're a legal clerk in criminal justice?"

"Yes."

Silence.

"I'm in the FBI...the behavioral analysis unit," he said with a genuine, trademark Derek Morgan smile. The one that made Pen melt every time.

Tasha nodded.

His smile faded only a little. "Um...both Penelope and I are from the BAU... and Lynch works at the FBI, too."

Penelope inwardly winced. If Derek was bringing up Kevin _voluntarily_, this was not going well at all...

"I know."

He shot Penelope a look, one that obviously said, _Help__!_

"You must get some interesting cases coming through," Pen said, coming in as a relief pitcher.

"We do."

The woman finally talked, but it took a long time, and a lot of prodding, from Derek.

Penelope, on the other hand, didn't need to be prodded at all. She wanted to talk so badly with Derek. He was lively, engaging, and witty; she wished it was just them on one of their many dinner dates. She had to bite her tongue not to answer the questions he was asking. She even had to stifle a laugh, because she knew he was going to say something clever and flirtatious, just by the look on his face. She knew him that well; she could anticipate delights.

To make matters worse, Kevin was being mulish, stirring his food around with his fork and sighing exaggeratedly every ten minutes or so. He obviously wanted to leave. He was polite enough to Derek and Tasha, but mumbled to her, showing his disdain for the whole situation.

As the date wrapped up, they got ready to say their goodbyes. Derek helped Tasha into her taxi to go home, and then he turned and hugged Penelope.

"Tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

Penelope cringed. She knew he would want a report on the date. He did that after every one of these dinner excursions, and so far, had only received bad news from her.

This time, unfortunately, wasn't much different.

"Well..." she said, drawling out uncomfortably.

"Never mind, sugar," he said dejectedly. He hung his head just slightly, enough that only she noticed it. "I already know the answer."

"Goodnight, Derek," she said, her heart breaking, standing on her tiptoes and kissing his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay, P. Ain't your fault," he said softly, cupping her cheek in his hand. "Maybe I'm just not meant to be a daddy yet."

Penelope felt her heart seize in her chest. He was so ready to be a dad! Everything about him screamed that he would make a wonderful father! If only these women—

"Penelope, we need to go," Kevin snapped, his face set in a serious scowl. "_Some people _need to work at six a.m."

Penelope looked up at him with embarrassment, but Derek simply shook his head and chuckled.

"Goodnight, angel," he murmured, kissing her forehead. He moved the collar on her coat up closer to her chin and winked at her. "Stay warm."

"I will," she whispered, as he turned and walked away.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_AN:Thanks so much to all the wonderful readers and reviewers. I am still not getting reviews in my email, so I am terribly behind in responding (Heck, I am not even getting alerts that my chapters are posting!)...So, bear with me, and enjoy the next chapter...It's a little bit of a risk, but I sure hope you will love it..._

Penelope was thoughtful and quiet while Kevin drove home. She felt horrible. Her heart ached for Derek. To add on to that, her forehead tingled where he'd kissed her, like a magic reminder of the chemistry she felt with him. It was always that way with Morgan: she felt things in overdrive when it came to him. It was never in small measures—at all times intense and full of emotion and caring.

She sighed, feeling like a bad friend because she wasn't helping Derek get what he wanted.

"What is that heavy sigh all about?" Kevin asked, still looking at the road.

She was wary of telling him about what she was thinking. He hadn't been positive all evening, and he hated discussing Derek's love life in general. She supposed it must've been a male thing—Derek hated discussing anything about Kevin, too.

"Nothing," she said diplomatically. She decided not to bother Kevin any more with this stuff. It really wasn't his responsibility, even though it affected her relationship with him.

"Penny Lane, I know that isn't the truth." He sighed himself, and then looked out the window. "Penelope, I know I wasn't very good this evening. I was fed up with all this _Morgan_ drama. However, after nearly four years, I consider myself your friend, too, as well as your lover. Talk."

Penelope could tell he really didn't want to listen, but she felt like she was going to burst. This was a conundrum. Emily was out on a date, JJ would say to her, "_You__ are the only one who knows what to do, __Garcie_," and…she couldn't exactly talk to Derek about this problem!

So, against her better judgment, she said, "I feel horrible."

"Why?"

She sighed again. "I wish I could tell him one of those women are okay. I really want him to be happy, Kevin! I wish I could say, 'That one, D!' But I can't."

"Why can't you?" Kevin asked. His tone wasn't cynical or nasty; it was matter of fact, questioning.

"Because they're not right for him," she answered quickly, somewhat exasperated. How could he ask that after those dates?

"Why?"

She gave a short laugh. "You know what they were like, Kev. They were _awful_, every one of them."

He was quiet again for a long time as they drove down the road. So long, she was certain that the subject had been dropped.

"You know what I saw?" They were at a stoplight, so he turned his head and looked at her. She noticed that his eyes narrowed just a bit, in serious contemplation. She knew that look. She'd seen it many times before.

"What did you see?" she asked, somewhat wary.

"I saw four nice women with slight flaws. Women that seemed perfectly fine to me."

"Please," she scoffed. "Loud or meek, whistling, weird…so, so not right for Derek."

"Nice, genuinely kind, interested in Morgan, good to us," he countered. He shrugged and looked back out the window. "Could be right."

"But they're not right for Derek," she emphatically said. "I know him. They're not right for him. They're—"

"They're not perfect, but they could be fine."

Penelope was growing more frustrated by the second. "No, Kevin, they couldn't!"

"Why?" he asked softly. He turned off of the highway onto her exit.

She huffed. She was definitely wrong to talk about any of this with Kevin. He didn't get it. He didn't understand any of this. He was just sick of it and wanted her to pick any pea-brained idiot with a pulse for Derek.

Well, she wasn't going to do it!

How could she doom Derek to failure with one of those women? Derek needed a kind, sweet, beautiful woman that would love him with all her heart, understand his pain, comfort him when he needed it. He'd said he wasn't going to fall in love, but she knew that was wrong. Derek had such a huge heart; he'd fall, and he'd fall hard. She didn't want to see him hurt. She'd rather die than see pain come to Derek.

She decided not to say another word, planning on being quiet the entire rest of the ride to her place.

Kevin must've had other plans. "Do you want to know what I think?"

She didn't, but she was a captive audience, stuck in a car for about five more miles.

Kevin was still looking out the window, and he looked nonchalant, but she felt that was deceptive. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles were turning white.

"Kevin?" she whispered, as a feeling of dread washed over her.

"I think Mother Theresa could be sitting across from Derek at Tia's, and you would still find fault with her." He continued looking forward, but he began to smile wryly. "I think a woman who looked like Miss Universe, with manners and grace like Princess Diana, and morals like the Virgin Mary, could be in that restaurant, and you would say she breathed the wrong way."

"Kevin, I—"

He interrupted her. "I think that whatever woman you saw with him would be incomplete in some way or another, and you would pan her, knowing she isn't right for your precious Morgan."

She gasped. "I am not that critical!"

"But the funny thing is," he continued, ignoring her completely. "I think you'd find that any _one_ of those girls would be fine for me, or Hotch, or anyone else." He paused, and then said, "It's just Derek Morgan that they wouldn't work for."

"No—"

"Think for a minute, Penelope," he said, interrupting her again. "Think about me with one of those girls. Would I be too good for them?" There was no malice, no anger in Kevin's voice—just a sound of tired recognition.

Penelope's mind was reeling, and she felt nauseated. Kevin was absolutely right. There was too much truth in what he was saying. She didn't think she would feel that bad about Kevin dating those girls, or Hotch, or Rossi. In fact, she'd seriously thought about Reid meeting Suzannah. They'd debate avidly for hours!

So why was she doing it to Derek? Why wasn't any woman good enough? She loved Derek, no doubt about it, and he was the best of the best…didn't she want him to be happy?

That wasn't the issue. She wanted him to be the happiest, she wanted his relationship to be special, to be worthy of him. She loved him so much, she wanted someone that would see him as their everything, that would see him as the one who made the sun shine and the moon rise. Someone that would love him…that would love...

Someone that would love him like she did.

She paled, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her stomach ached, and her head hurt even more than it had a moment ago. She knew Kevin knew it, too—probably knew it a long, long time ago—that she was very in love with Derek, even though she couldn't face it herself.

He pulled in front of her apartment and put the car in park. He didn't say anything; he was simply silent, looking out the window. She blanched; she'd been so worried about hurting Derek, she'd never even realized how much pain she'd been causing Kevin. She felt terrible for that, too.

"I'm so sorry, Kevin," she whispered, sniffling.

When he turned to look at her, his smile was bittersweet. "Penelope, I knew when I first met you there was someone else in your life. Someone who mattered a great deal to you, and vice versa. I kind of knew this day was coming." He chuckled wryly. "I just didn't think it would have to be me that pointed it out."

"I don't know what to do," she said, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

"Yes, you do," he said with a smirk. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "You're a bright girl; you'll figure it out."

That made her cry harder. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said. His eyes were wet now, too. "See you around, Penny. You know where to come, if you get lonely for code."

She chuckled and opened the car door. "You're a good man, Kevin Lynch."

"The best out there," he said arrogantly with a wink.

She shut the door, and he drove away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews, everyone. I know Kevin isn't our "favorite" person by any means, but it was nice to give him a gracious send off!...Now she knows...what now?_

Derek was truly ready to give up on this whole disastrous plan. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be? Each of the women had been nice enough—they'd fit his standards he'd set with _MeetYourMatch_. Honestly, he didn't know _what_ it was about the women that he'd been dating. They just hadn't seemed right to him. Being with them, talking, flirting, laughing with them, just wasn't very enjoyable. He'd found it to be a frustrating amount of work. Not only that, he'd felt highly uncomfortable, and he was usually so comfortable in his own skin.

To top it off, Penelope had felt the same way about the women he'd gone out with. That was the kicker for him. She'd brought up a lot of things he'd already thought about, and he'd known they weren't going to work.

He sat at his desk and put his face in his hands. He felt horrible thinking the way that he did about most of these ladies. He never thought he was that fickle when it came to women. His plan was to pick a _nice_ woman. All of these women had been _nice;_ they just had qualities that had irritated the crap out of him.

That was the crux. He didn't want to bring his children up in an environment where he was annoyed with their mother a huge percentage of the time. He didn't expect that he'd have a relationship that was warm, loving, and fun, but he did expect that he wouldn't want to grit his teeth and bear it with his wife. That wouldn't do.

He'd thought he was ready to settle for less; he'd thought he'd be fine with any woman. Instead, he found himself wanting more. He wasn't willing to settle for just anybody anymore; he wasn't willing to waste his time.

He wanted beauty, brains, and common sense. He wanted humor and light and charm. He wanted caring and compassion, empathy and sympathy. He wanted someone he could love, someone he _already_ loved.

He wanted Penelope.

Her being there had made things so much more difficult now. Asking her along on the dates had been a terrible idea. Seeing her, sitting there so gorgeous, smiling and laughing with Lynch, charming everyone at the table—including his dates—had made his dates look even more lackluster and even less desirable.

Blowing out all his breath, he wiped his face with his hands, and then slumped in his chair. He could want all day and night, he could want for years and years, he could want until the cows came home, and it wouldn't do him a damned bit of good. She was taken. She didn't want him. He needed to seriously face facts: he wasn't going to get what he wanted—and he needed to keep up the search, no matter how dismal it was.

Disgusted, he sat up and tried to snap himself out of his pity party he was throwing. He took a loose paperclip off of his desk, and with frustration, tossed the stupid thing against the wall.

"Hmm…Hot Stuff? Got an aversion to paper clips?"

The smiling, twinkling-eyed object of his thoughts now stood in his doorway. She was in an obvious good mood. Her cheeks were rosy, like she was thinking naughty thoughts, and the mischievous dimples in her cheeks—the kind she got when she was going to tease him—were showing.

He chuckled in spite of himself; she was too damned adorable for him not to. "Yeah, that must be it."

"Can I come in?" she asked, a hopeful look on her face.

"Sure…for a minute," he answered, "but don't get too comfortable. I'm leaving soon."

She gave him a curious look. "Where you headed?"

"Not on a date, that's for damn sure!" He smiled as she laughed, and then continued, "Going to workout. I need to get some frustration out."

Her smile lessened, her obvious compassion showing for him. "I'm sorry, Sweet Cheeks. I know this has to have been tough."

"It's been _hell_," he answered honestly, and then grinned at her before he said, "but I'll survive."

"Gonna keep trying, then?" she asked, sounding a little surprised, like even she thought it was a lost cause.

That irked him—he needed her to rally the troops! He couldn't blame her after the abysmal dates she'd seen.

He guessed he'd have to rally the troops for himself.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm meant for someone. Miss Right has to be out there—I just have to meet her."

She nodded, looking apologetic. "Oh, I know. I just think…" She paused, and then sighed a little. "Never mind."

"Hey, there's_ three hundred women _on my e-dating list, and I've dated _four_ of them. Who knows if she's one of the two hundred ninety-six I haven't met?" he asked, trying to pump himself up, trying to think positive...

Since he wasn't going to get the girl in front of him.

Inhaling, she beamed a bright smile at him again that looked just a trifle forced to him. "You're right. She might be on her computer right now."

"I happen to think the future Mrs. Morgan may like to be on computers," he teased, shooting her a half grin. "You may have something in common with her after all."

She continued to smile as she said, "I gotta go."

"Okay, see you later, honey."

She dashed out of his office.

* * *

Back in her office, Penelope quickly shut the door, leaned against it, and let the brittle smile she'd plastered on her face fall away. God, that was awful! Was he _really_ planning to meet almost three hundred _Ms. __Wrongs_?

She wanted to tell him that she'd broken up with Kevin. She wanted to let him know she was free, and she wanted to know if he was free, too—for the next fifty years. She was planning on going in there, planning on asking him out on a date, but then it all went horribly wrong. He started treating her like a buddy, all gung ho about this damned dating site, and she froze.

After she'd left Kevin last night, she'd thought positively about a relationship with Derek, but then she'd also felt somewhat guilty for not really giving the women he'd dated a chance. She couldn't be non-supportive again; she felt like she'd sabotaged him enough—although not on purpose!—in this endeavor.

Besides, just because she wanted him, didn't mean he wanted her. Just because she thought it could be so right between them, didn't mean he did.

Just because she loved him like she'd never loved anyone ever before, didn't mean he felt the same way.

She just wanted a chance—one moment to see if they could be perfect—but if he felt like she was a buddy, if he felt she wasn't dating material, if she were plain old Garcia to him…then it wasn't going to work.

A second later, Penelope began to smile as a light bulb went on over her head. She had an idea…and she was going to put it into fruition.

Starting right now...


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_AN: Thank you for the reviews! This has been so fun to write...Sorry I am late with this posting. Seven year old decided to share her strep throat with me...So, have you all figured out Pen's plan?_

It was Sunday night, time for Derek to crack open his laptop and start reading messages from perspective brides on _MeetYourMatch_. He glared at the hated shiny silver rectangle sitting on his coffee table. He was completely not in the mood to deal with this anymore.

He'd had a lousy weekend. He'd been scheduled to see a movie with Garcia—one of a few "dates" he actually enjoyed going on now—but she'd canceled on him early Saturday morning. So, he'd spent the weekend moping, bored and irritated. He'd started the pity train Saturday, and he couldn't jump off. The last thing he wanted to do was this wife hunt, but he'd made a promise to himself to do it, no excuses.

Bringing his cup of cocoa with mini-marshmallows—it was a rare frou-frou thing Derek loved—he plopped the mug on the table, then plopped himself on the couch. Thinking of Penelope, he moved the mug a touch farther from the laptop. He smiled to himself when he thought about how nervous she'd been when he'd had the wine glasses too close to the computer.

He stretched his arms over his head, then rolled his shoulders, laced his fingers and pressed them outward, preparing for the battle that was going to take place. Opening the laptop, he fired the screen up and opened his web browser, navigating to the _MeetYourMatch_ site...

_Welcome, HotStuff123_, it told him cheerfully.

He admittedly wasn't too creative with nicknames!

He clicked the message button and pulled up the thirty-eight messages that were waiting for him. He stifled a groan—more ineligibles he had to deal with. A few he clicked away immediately, including one from Kitty Monson. He wondered how she'd gotten back again; she must've had twenty screen names. She really didn't know how to take _no_ for an answer. A couple of other messages were from ladies who had names he didn't really like, like _ImEZ4U_, which sounded slutty, and _oiahfpoihpa_, which made no sense to him at all. Some had decent names, like _Melissa1980_, but put a greeting in the tag line that was offensive, like _My place or yours?_

Just when he was ready to click the damned thing off, he found one right towards the top of the pile. Someone named _SweetPea34_. She had a simple greeting, just a gentle, normal, _Hi there, HotStuff123_.

He clicked her message and opened it up:

_Hi Hot Stuff!_

_I'm SweetPea34. My age is in my __handle. Glad__ yours __isn't—I'd__ have to alert Guinness! :)_

_I'd love to talk with you; I think we have similar interests, and yet are enough different to be interesting to each other._

_Awaiting your chat. I should be on tonight. SP_

Derek clicked open her profile and started to read. What she claimed was right—they did have similar and different interests. She liked computers and programming, which made him smile. He thought about how he'd teased Penelope Friday afternoon, that he'd find someone who liked computers.

He clicked on the link that said _Chat__ now_, and was surprised when a little box popped up. A second later, it said:

_SweetPea34: Hi! :)_

Derek paused for a second, for some reason feeling a little nervous.

_SweetPea34: Go ahead...I don't bite. LOL_

He smiled, then began to type.

H_otStuff123: Hi there. Sorry I'm slow; new to this_

_SweetPea34: np_

A second later...

_SweetPea34:That means no problem!_

_HotStuff123: I think I need a dictionary for this! LOL_

_SweetPea34: You're not too bad. You got LOL right! You're a quick study. ;)_

Derek chatted for about an hour with SweetPea34, past the time his battery pack on his computer flashed that it was running low. She seemed so nice, friendly, warm...and that was just from a computer desktop. He couldn't help but smile as he thought about this woman; maybe this computer dating thing wouldn't be so bad after all?

Then it flashed again...

_SweetPea34: HS, I have to go. Work 2morrow_

_HotStuff123: Ok. TTYL?_

Derek smiled. He was feeling hopeful for the first time in eons, and he was proud of the new computer lingo he was learning.

_SweetPea34: When?_

_HotStuff123: Tomorrow?_

_SweetPea34: Sure thing, handsome_

That last comment shocked him. It sounded exactly like something Penelope would say.

He sat there frowning for a second, thoughts coming together in his mind. He'd have to ask this _SweetPea34_...Were all technology Goddess that similar?

He didn't get a chance to ask...

_SweetPea34 has signed off_

_

* * *

_

Penelope watched as Derek walked past her office, his hands in his pockets, humming happily. He looked positively giddy. He didn't stop in like he always did. That was irritating, because she was waiting for him to do it. Sighing, she turned back to her computer and began to type.

"Feeling better?" he asked, finally stopping in her office later.

"What?" she replied, turning to face him.

"You were sick Saturday—you had to cancel our movie date—and then you were gone Monday and Tuesday," he reminded her. "Feeling better?"

"Yes. I'm feeling great. How are you?"

"I couldn't be any better," he answered, a big, radiant, nearly cheesy grin on his face.

"Oh...good," she said softly.

"I need you and Lynch to double with me one more time tomorrow night," he said, his huge grin never faltering.

"Really?"

He nodded quickly. "Yep."

"Oh," she said, curious. "Who?"

"This woman, _SweetPea34_. We've been chatting for three days now." He was still smiling, still so happy. "I'm going to ask her out."

Penelope smiled back at him, beaming. "Good! Good. So, have you seen her face?"

"No. She's new to the site, so she has no profile picture yet." He shrugged. "But that doesn't really matter to me. She could be a one eyed purple people eater, and I'd still like her a ton."

Penelope chuckled. "My, my. You _are_ smitten."

"I think I found the right one this time, Penelope."

"How do you know?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Talking to her, speaking to her these last few days, I just know," he said softly, and then caught her gaze. "You know, she reminds me a lot of you."

Looking up at him, her eyes grew wider, and she lost all ability to speak.

"I...I'm...ah...," she began to stammer...

...then she simply fell silent. She couldn't think of the right thing to say.

"Tomorrow night?" he asked, and she thought that maybe his grin lost a little of that wattage he originally had.

Maybe just a touch.

She nodded and smiled. "Tomorrow night."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10  
**

_AN: I am behind on answering reviews; I promise to get to answering reviews when I get some time. I have to head back to work tonight...Thanks so much for the reviews, I really appreciate your input!_

When she walked into Tia's, alone, Derek was sitting, waiting for her, in a similar state. He was in the same chair at the same table he had used since they started this endeavor, with that same hopeful smile on his face. Her heart panged in her chest when she saw that. He really was trying very hard.

He signaled his "hello" with a wave in her direction. As she headed closer to him, he rose to give her a hug.

"Where's Lynch?" he asked, obviously curious.

"He's not coming," she blurted quickly, noticing as his eyebrows shot up, along with the corners of his mouth. She grinned at him. "Are you going to miss him?"

"Oh, you know it, sugar. A meal is just not complete without watching Lynch sprinkle Parmesan cheese on his tiramisu," Derek answered, eyes twinkling.

"Be nice."

He shrugged, ignoring her last comment. "Seems I might be in the same boat…_Sweetpea34_ isn't here yet, either. Might just be us two."

She paused, looking at him, her eyes wide.

Giving her a smirk, he questioned, "Mind having a good supper, courtesy of your best friend?"

"I can think of nothing better," she replied honestly, taking the seat he pulled out for her. "However, I think you are maybe jumping the gun, honey. Very few women would ever be foolish enough to stand you up."

"Actually, I've had my share in my time," he said, sitting back down.

"Really?"

"Lots of women have turned me down for some reason or another," he said. A moment later, he leered at her, and added, "Scores more have said yes, mind you…"

She slapped his arm playfully. "You're awful."

He simply arched a brow, and then shook out his napkin, putting it on his lap. They chatted until the waiter came and took their orders. Shortly after, he returned and brought spinach artichoke dip—one of their favorites—and fried ravioli to snack on.

She was quiet for a moment, watching him while he looked at the menu, her elbow on the table and her chin rested in her hand. She thought it was so different, not having Kevin or some woman there to lose focus on. Just the two of them; it was such a good feeling.

"What are you looking at?" he asked with a teasing grin. "Do I have spinach in my teeth?"

"No, you're good," she teased back, not quite answering the first question. She took a sip of her wine, and then said, "So, what is it you like about _Sweetpea34_?"

"Beyond the fact that she's gorgeous?"

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "I thought you said she hadn't sent you a picture yet, so how do you know?"

"Personality, sweetheart," he said with a smile. "She has a gorgeous personality, which matters more than anything to me."

"She may look like my Uncle Phil."

"I wouldn't care," he said.

"Oh, believe me. You'd care," she commented teasingly.

"I guess I'd have to deal, then," he said softly, a faint smile still gracing his lips.

She swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling thick, full. "What else attracted you to her?" she croaked out hoarsely.

"She seemed very caring, sweet, genuine," he said. "Oh, and she's supportive."

She frowned. "How is she supportive?"

"She taught me how to do the chat thing on the computer," he said. "She was patient with me, very gentle."

"Anyone would do that, D," she replied, looking at him, her cheeks flushed.

"Anyone could, but she went out of her way," he said. "She'd make a good mother. She's not like anyone else."

"How do you know?" she asked.

He reached across the table and held her hand. "Just trust me. I know."

A warm shiver clamored up her spine, and an alarm bell went off. She gave him a wary look. "Derek…"

"Anyway," he said, removing his hand with a shake of his head. "It doesn't really matter, since she stood me up. I'd really hoped she was the right one. She was smart, warm, funny, and sexy in her conversations with me." He looked back at her, narrowing his eyes just a touch. "It's so strange she stood me up; she sounded like she really cared."

"Derek, she does care," she murmured.

He gave her a sidelong glance. "What was that? I didn't catch that. Too many gun shots without ear protection..."

She smiled, despite feeling nervous. "Yes, I can s-see that."

He put a hand on top of hers. His hand felt warm and dry, so different than hers. Her hands were cold, clammy, and were shaking like a leaf on a tree.

"Baby, you're shaking," he said softly. "What's the matter? You know you can tell me anything…"

"I broke up with Kevin," she began, but stopped quickly.

"Aw, sugar," he said, squeezing that same hand. "I'm so sorry. You don't have to be here for this, if that's bother—"

"No," she interrupted quickly. "I do…I have to."

He narrowed his eyes at her, his brow furrowing. "Baby—"

She took a deep breath, as if she were fortifying herself. She looked up at him, squeezed his hand back, and said, "Hi, _HotStuff123_; I'm _Sweetpea34_. Pleased to meet you."

Penelope watched as his frown deepened for just a moment. His expression wasn't at all what she expected. She thought he'd look surprised, shocked. He looked like she'd just said, _"__Derek, My eyes are brown_._"_ Not exactly front page news.

It wasn't exactly condemnation, like she'd expected, either. She'd thought he would be mad as hell for lying, for doing this pretense and not just saying, "_I like you, and I could be in love with you_," but he didn't look that upset, either.

He released her hand and sat back. "Okay, Penelope."

"Okay?"

"I am running on two things here—two things that are keeping me sane and in this seat, still," he said, his voice calm, controlled. "One, I had a damned good suspicion it was you."

Her eyes widened. "You d-d-did?"

"Woman, I know you. The way you talk, the way you tease...you called me handsome when you chatted with me," he said, arching a brow at her. "So either you have a really spooky doppelganger out there, or it was you."

She hung her head, feeling somewhat foolish. He'd known all along...

"We have a long friendship, one that I know you cherish as much as I do. I don't believe you would hurt me for the world, at least not on purpose." He paused and leaned forward. "So I only have one question for you: why'd you do it?"

Penelope felt her heart catch in her throat. When she'd gone through this in her mind, she'd been so much more suave. She was able to pour her heart out, tell him exactly what she'd come to discover about her own feelings. Now, she was confronted with those compassionate chocolate eyes, ones that were trying to understand why she'd lied to him, why she'd done such a stupid ruse. Ones that knew she lied—and played along with it.

And she couldn't say a word.

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. No words would escape her suddenly parched throat. She reached for her wine glass, downed the contents, and stared at him.

"D," she croaked, and then shook her head.

"Go on, sweetheart," he said, squeezing her hand, looking at her with encouragement.

She needed to apologize. She needed to make this better, and treat him with the respect he'd always deserved.

"Derek…I'm…I'm…I'm s-s-sorry," she managed finally to pathetically squeak out.

She watched as all the warmth drained from Derek's eyes and his smile faded. He'd never had a frosty moment with her before, even when he'd been extremely mad at her in the past. She'd prefer for him to be angry with her, compared to this. He looked like she disappointed the hell out of him.

"D?" she questioned, starting to worry.

He removed his hand from hers, and she immediately missed the heat that it gave her. "I see," he said coolly. "That wasn't what I thought you'd say. I guess I was mistaken."

_Mistaken?_ she thought, curious. _What was he talking about?_

She didn't get to question him. He stood, fished his wallet out, and threw a hundred dollar bill on the table. "That should cover dinner. I'm—"

"Derek, please," she interrupted, reaching for his hand. Her eyes widened, and her heart started to pound in panic. This wasn't good! "We can—"

He shook his head and took a step away from her. "Oh, hell, no. Never again."

"Derek, wait—"

Laughing bitterly, he said, "Wait? I'm done waiting on you. I'm someone for you to toy with, someone to tease, and now, apparently...Someone to treat like a fool."

Without another word, he turned and left the restaurant, never looking back to see her tears.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_AN: Thank you for the reviews...Here comes the next chapter..._

After the shock of Derek walking out wore off, Penelope stood and ran towards the exit.

"Miss! What about your change?" the waiter called out, hurrying after her.

"Keep it!" she yelled over her shoulder as she bolted out the door in pursuit of Derek.

It was a late fall night, so it was dark rather early, and it had rained, making the streets slick. She hurried along in her high heels, and finally saw Derek walking down the street to the parking garage where his car must've been. He was speed walking. Derek was usually fast, but when he was angry, he practically left marks on the pavement.

A moment later, her foot slipped, and she luckily stabilized herself without falling. She wasn't going to make that mistake again. Hopping on her left foot, she removed her right heel, and then hopped on the right to remove her left. Looping the straps over her finger, she took off running at a faster pace.

"Derek," she called out when she got closer. "Morgan! Wait! Please!"

He stopped and turned to look at her, his expression completely unreadable.

She jogged over to where he was standing, grunting when she stepped on the occasional sharp rock. "Oof!" she said as she hit a particularly bad one about two feet away from him.

He scowled blackly at her. "Put your damned shoes on; you're going to catch pneumonia out here."

"Actually, that's a wives' tale," she retorted nervously, the first thing that popped into her head. It was cold and flu season; she'd been listening to Reid spout facts about that stuff too much!

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

She bent over and slid her heels back on her battered tootsies, thinking she was going to need a serious pedicure after this was all said and done. "Derek, we need to talk," she pleaded.

Shaking his head, he answered, "We've already had that pleasure. I don't want to duplicate it."

"I didn't mean it like it came out! You should know that," she said. She couldn't keep the wounded hurt out of her voice. "You should know _me_."

"I thought I did _know_ you, Penelope," he replied, the hurt obvious in his voice, too. "I thought you were beyond mean and dirty tricks."

"Derek!" she snapped. "You do know me better than that, damn you! _Listen_ to me. Give me a chance to explain, and if you still don't want anything to do with me, I'll understand."

He crossed his arms over his chest in a show of an age old defensive mechanism. "Fine. Talk."

The air was growing more humid, and chilling down at the same time. Her breath was making fog as she spoke, but she didn't feel the cold. She needed badly to tell him; he had to know exactly how she was feeling. He had every right to know.

The beginning was the best place to start.

Taking a deep breath, she then exhaled it all and began speaking.

"You know I didn't think this was a great idea in the first place, finding a wife you didn't love so you could have kids."

"Yeah, I know," he said, and then laughed bitterly. "You probably sabotaged my dates to prove that to me..."

When he looked over at her, she knew she couldn't hide the guilty look on her face.

He shook his head, getting that very disappointed look on his face again. "Oh, P..."

"Derek, you said you'd listen," she yelled as he turned away. She was hoping to work on his sense of honor. She knew him, far better than he thought he knew her right now.

She watched as his fists made solid balls of muscle and bone, before relaxing. He turned to look at her. "Okay," he said with a clenched jaw. "Go on."

"I did sabotage your dates, but I didn't realize I was doing it," she rattled off quickly. She blushed beet red, and said, "Kevin had to tell me I was doing it."

"Lynch?"

She nodded. "And I was against this idea, not because of the reason you think, but for a completely different reason."

He scoffed. "What reason? Because it's funny? Because you think I should be alone?"

"I was against it because you're _better_ than that idea," she whispered fiercely. She smiled then, but she could feel her lips tremble. "Because you're the finest man I know. Because you deserve someone to love, who loves you in return, and not just someone who would be adequate."

When he didn't respond, she began again. "Originally, I didn't want to go on the dates, but then I thought it would be one way to see if the women were really as bad as I'd thought they'd be, and to keep an eye on you to protect you for once-like you always do for me." She laughed bitterly. "Turns out, they were _worse_ than I'd thought. None of them were anywhere near good enough for you."

"Penelope—"

She continued before he could say more. "It took Kevin telling me that no woman would be good enough for you, because I wanted you for myself. I knew he was right, but I was scared."

"Scared of what?" he asked, but his voice held no venom at all, only interest.

The pre-wintery wind whipped up and brought along some chilly rain with it. She felt misty droplets falling on her hair, and she'd left her jacket in the restaurant, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm.

Derek slid his jacket off, and then put it over her shoulders. It was a warm mantle, heated from his body, and smelled like him. He gripped his collar and tucked it close to her.

"Scared of what, Penelope?" he murmured.

"I tried to tell you, D," she said, looking up at him, her eyes wet with tears. "I tried, and I completely froze. You were so determined to find a woman-someone else-on the computer..."

"That morning in my office," he said, understanding dawning on him.

She nodded. "I was so foolish, Derek. I wanted a chance, and I didn't see you seeing me any other way. So...I hacked into the _MeetYourMatch_ system, put myself where you'd see it, and thought I'd get you to notice me differently that way, first."

"Didn't work," he said, and for the first time since they stood out there, he said it with a smile. "I knew almost immediately it was you."

"You did?" she asked.

"When I talked with you, flirted with you, and it was like I had my Garcia right there in front of me. That _handsome_ sealed it. I was sure of it." He smiled softly. "That's the truth."

"So...so...when you said all that stuff about..." She paled, her heart sinking nervously. "Oh, God!"

He frowned again. "What?"

"You said you were falling in love with that girl, that she was gorgeous—"

"She is," he interrupted. "_You_ are."

The rain was falling harder, soaking her hair and running off the tip of her nose. Her glasses were fogged; she took them off, put them in his jacket pocket, and then looked back up at him.

"Are you?" she whispered, looking up at him, her heart hanging on the precipice. Every ounce of longing for him, every little girl dream she'd planned, stood with her, balanced precariously. She'd never been so afraid in her life. "Falling in...love...with.."

He didn't answer her; instead, he pulled her into his arms and planted his lips on hers.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews. This was inspired by Hellomy23, who so wanted a MG kiss in the rain. (Pardon my butchered Spanish!)...__Jesica: Desde__ mi corazon a tu corazon, Kricket _

There were a few things in life that Penelope knew were perfect: a piece of chocolate she'd bought from the local confectionery last week with a sprinkle of sea salt on top that was the best mix of sweet and salty ever, Henry's laugh after she'd tickled his belly when she'd babysat him for JJ last week, the warm sun on her face after two days of rather dismal rain, pink tea roses at the botanical gardens with their petals sparkling with water droplets...

All of those paled in comparison to the perfection of this kiss.

A few things happened before it even started. Being a truly sensual woman and a pure hopeful romantic, Penelope wanted to remember this moment forever by letting it touch all of her senses and etching them into her memory indelibly. Each movement he did, each breath he took, she was going to commit them to her conscious memory and never let them go.

She had been waiting six years for this, after all.

The feel of his strong, firm hands—one in the center of her back, the other just where her spine began to curve—drew her closer to his body. He wasn't wearing his coat anymore, yet he was still warmer than she was. She could feel the heat of his hands, the strength of his arms, through the layer of his jacket draped on her shoulders.

She watched his eyes darken, become heavily lidded, as he lowered his head towards hers. She wondered if he'd close his eyes or if he'd watch while they kissed. She didn't know what she was going to do yet. Her heart was thrumming, and a big part of her wanted to actually see this up close. She wished she had a video camera, so she could replay this over and over, squeeing and clapping.

Apparently, he kept them slightly closed, mostly opened, seeing and enjoying. She watched as a slow smile graced those beautiful lips, just the barest hint of his white teeth flashing, as he watched her, too.

_He must wonder what I am thinking,_ she thought breathlessly. _He must see that my mind is going in a million thoughts per minute. He must know...he must know how badly I've wanted this..._

To slow her racing thoughts, she closed her eyes. She could hear the slightest chuckle, a soft, vibrant sound that rumbled along her skin like a cat's purr. Her heart pounded, her breath caught in her throat, and her whole body tensed in anticipation, with the depth of feeling behind the words she was going to utter...

"Falling in...love...with..."

And then...a lassitude crept over her. She'd wanted this for what felt like her whole life. This was Derek—she had no reason to worry. She needed to feel, to enjoy, and to let go. So, she leaned back into his embrace, tilted back her head, and let him kiss her.

As the rain fell around them, Derek tucked Penelope closer to him, into the bend of his right elbow, while his other arm supported her waist. He cradled her, his Baby Girl, like he'd always intended on doing—if he'd ever had the chance to truly kiss her.

And man...He was going to kiss her like she'd never been kissed before!

Brushing his warm lips against her soft, chilled ones, he experimented, taking in her texture, the feel of her, gauging her responsiveness. He felt her slight intake of breath, the quiver of her body in his arms. It made him smile, just a little. He was so overjoyed, so downright happy to be with her, that even while he kissed her, the smile on his face would not leave. He hesitated on closing his eyes; watching her, drinking in that it was Penelope he was kissing, was an aphrodisiac in itself.

Continual contact, soft and sweet breathless sweeps were soon not enough. He found himself nipping lightly at her lips, encouraging her to part them the slightest bit, exploring every delicious surface, each contour of her lips.

It wasn't until he felt her arms come up and her hands resting on his shoulders that he slowly sank deeper into the kiss. He dipped his tongue in just slightly to taste the sweetness inside. Derek felt a rush of desire sweep over him, a palpable throb, just from that little sip. He dipped in more, licking, stroking his tongue against hers, tasting her.

He captured her lips and began to kiss her, with all the pent up passion and desire he had brewing just under the surface. Derek had a lot of passion when it came to Penelope. He'd wanted her for ages.

She was mimicking his movements, following his kisses, the sweeps of his tongue. She was a rapid study, kissing in perfect time with him. There was this trembling, this slight shaking, but he didn't know if it came from her or if it came from him. He simply knew he was overwhelmed by the emotions of the moment.

The cool rain was now plastering his dress shirt to his back, and rivulets of water were running down the back of his neck and under his collar, but he didn't care. Heat whooshed through him, rolling over him like backdraft from a three alarm fire. He wouldn't be surprised it there were pockets of steam rising between them from where the rain droplets fell.

Damn, this woman was it! There was nothing about her that wasn't completely right. Her soft body matched up perfectly with his, cradling him with her softness. There was such a need that grew in him, as the kiss grew harder, hungrier. He needed to claim her, make her his, now and forever. It was a dire necessity; he felt like he'd stop living if he couldn't keep kissing her.

However, at this moment, that wasn't a worry. He had his Penelope...and that was all that mattered.

Somewhere in the course of this kiss, he'd lowered his hands to the soft curves of her bottom, drew her up against him, until she was nearly on her tiptoes. She'd wondered if she'd become unstable; her legs were shaking and her knees felt weak. She needn't have worried; he easily supported her weight, even as he drew her in for more.

Penelope writhed against him, wiggled, pressing herself even closer. She didn't know if she could ever _get_ close enough. She opened to him, her mind, her heart, as her mouth opened. All thought had perished long before. It was simply him and her, in this one uniting moment that had been building between them for years.

She sighed in pure satisfaction as she heard a low growl from his throat, just before he brought his hands up to cup her head, to move her and deepen their kiss even more. He was as lost as she, adrift in a sea of sensation and want. It was just her and him; nothing else existed.

And it was like she had originally thought...perfection.

So, in the cold fall night, Derek Morgan continued to kiss Penelope Garcia—and she kissed him back—while the rain fell around them.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews, you guys. I really love writing kisses-and getting kisses LOL!...There's a few little questions left here; I hope they get answered sufficiently for you... :) Kricket_

Derek had more emotions rolling through him than he thought possible. The sense of rightness rolled over him. He wasn't an emo sort of man, the kind that wore black and moped when he was down. He liked to take action, get things done, not pussyfoot around about things he could control. However, when it came to Penelope, that all went out the window.

For four excruciating years, he'd watched her with Kevin Lynch, a man that was completely unworthy of her in every aspect. At first, he'd been completely shocked. He hadn't taken the rumors about his Penelope and the geek from the tech sector as truth. She hadn't mentioned it to him, and they'd already had a close bond when it happened. Then he'd arrived back home from a case with the rest of the team, and saw Lynch on the balcony, waiting to discuss Penelope with Rossi.

It hit home, rock solid, then. And Derek had realized he'd lost.

He'd moved on, dated woman after woman, he'd even thanked his lucky stars for saving him for bachelorhood. He'd had a near miss—he'd told Penelope he loved her, and planned on so much more at that point.

But then, he'd couldn't walk away from her completely. She'd been his best friend—she still was his best friend—he couldn't abandon her for something as stupid as his heart misunderstanding what she'd wanted. The more time he spent with her, the more he realized what a lucky bastard Lynch was, and how very much he was still in love with her.

It still irked him, even now, kissing the woman that made all of the waiting so worth it. He thought about something she'd said, something that really bothered him, and had to act on it, even as his lips still gently touched hers.

He lowered his hands, wrapping his arms around her again in a protective embrace, as he began to resurface from their kiss. He reigned light kisses on her face, pressed his cheek against her cold, damp one, just holding her, before he began to speak.

"Baby," he whispered against the shell of her ear.

When he raised his head to look at her, her eyes were still closed.

She murmured languidly, obviously still immersed in the feelings from their kiss, "Hmmm?"

"You said you needed to get me to think differently about you. I don't understand that...or why you'd think that."

She lay there for a moment in the crook of his arm, and then her eyes fluttered slowly open. Undeniably, there was passion in those honey brown depths, but there was also some sadness there. He didn't want that; he didn't want any doubts or any sadness between them. She needed to know exactly how much he wanted her, how much he'd always wanted her.

"Derek," she murmured hesitantly.

"No, baby," he said, standing her back up, brushing the dampness of the rain from her face. "I need to know...Why didn't you just ask me?"

She sighed, and said quickly, "Because I thought if I'd simply asked you, you'd have turned me down."

"Are you crazy?" He laughed at the absurdity of that thought, and then cupped her face in his hands. "Woman, I have wanted you for years."

She pulled away a little bit and looked into his eyes. "No, D, you haven't...Well, not anywhere near as long as I've wanted you."

He frowned a touch. " I don't understand."

The rain started falling in sheets now, and Penelope grinned at him. "Come on. We're going to melt if we stay out here," she said, dragging his arm to lead him inside the parking garage.

Once inside, under the lights, Derek noticed the fog coming from their mouths as they breathed. He hadn't realized it was that cold.

"Baby, you okay?" he asked, worried about the temperature.

She rubbed her hands on her arms and tucked his jacket closer. "I'm fine. You?"

He nodded.

She looked back at him, somewhat sheepishly. "I suppose I should continue..."

"That would be nice," he said, smiling, somewhat challenging her. "I want to hear how you think you have me beat, because, woman, I have wanted you since just before you were shot."

"Derek, I had the biggest crush on you from the moment you first called me Baby Girl."

He stared at her. Nearly seven years.

"I didn't know," he whispered.

"I was free back then, and I was desperate for you. _Everyone_ knew it. Penelope Garcia, trailing after Derek Morgan," she stated, looking directly at him. "And yes, angelfish; you knew it, too."

He shrugged. "Yeah, but not in that way. I was young and dumb."

"You were," she answered with a crooked grin, "but I wasn't. I was twenty-seven years old and hopelessly in love with the hottest agent in the FBI."

"I didn't know it was that much," he answered, his voice soft, low. "I thought it was just a crush. Baby, if I had known—"

"If you had known back then, Derek, you still wouldn't have moved on it," she interrupted gently. "Baby Boy, you weren't ready then for what I was going to give you. I wanted to give you no hold's barred, flat out, til death do us part love...and back then, you wanted next Thursday through Sunday."

He shook his head dejectedly. "You're right. I was an immature shit, and I'm so sorry."

"Oh, good heavens! This isn't confession, sweet cheeks," she said with a smile. "This is us, realizing that now is the right time..."

Her voice trailed off, and then she added, "And to tell you the truth, even before I broke up with Kevin, I knew you weren't that same guy as six years ago. I knew it, and I still didn't ask you."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because, love, I thought you'd never see me as anything more than your friend." She smiled up at him, somewhat self-deprecatingly. "I may be a tech goddess, but I don't always see myself as a goddess in other arenas."

"Well, I do," he whispered. His eyes darkened immeasurably as he swept her into his arms again. "And I hope you know I don't kiss my friends like I just kissed you."

"I didn't think so, Hot Stuff." She flattened her palms against his wet shirt, and added, "Or should I say Cold Stuff?"

He grinned at her. "I'd better go home and take this stuff off."

She grinned back. "I'd better go with and watch you..."

His eyebrows rose, and then his grin grew even bigger. He placed his hand on her lower back and started hustling her towards his SUV. "Sounds like a plan."

Their combined laughter echoed through the parking garage as they hurried towards a new life together.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14- Epilogue**

_AN: Thanks for joining me on this journey. This story was so fun to write. Another one is coming down the pipe soon...because there's always a new situation to put our favorite pair in! Love, Kricket_

"Aiden! Down the stairs and on that bus, pronto!" Penelope Morgan called upstairs to her youngest foster son. He was a first grader, with the most horrible tendencies to drag his feet in the morning. Penelope, who wasn't much of a morning person, couldn't afford to lose any more time than she already had.

"Coming!" he yelled back, and she heard the toilet flush. A moment later, a flash of yellow came darting down the stairs, far too quickly to have washed his hands...

Aiden was slender, but much less so since he came to live with Pen and Derek two months ago. He came to them a brooding, unhappy little boy who rarely smiled. Now, his smile was a staple in the Morgan house, along with the smiles of his other two foster siblings.

"Did you wash your hands, baby?" she asked, kissing the top of his head as he gave her a hug.

He looked up at her guiltily, and then turned and ran into the kitchen, past Derek, who narrowly missed spilling his coffee.

"Damn, that boy is fast!" D remarked, taking a sip of his piping brew.

"Language, Morgan," Penelope said, but in a teasing tone.

"Mom, have you seen my homework?" a redheaded girl with braces asked, crawling along the floor.

"It's over here, Britta," Derek said, pointed to the kitchen table.

Britta was twelve and had lived with them for two years, right after they were married. She was extremely intelligent and highly absentminded...and had a crush on Uncle Spencer Reid two blocks long.

"Thanks, Daddy," she said, standing and hugging Derek fiercely. Britta was definitely her father's girl. Derek spoiled her—spoiled all the kids—positively rotten.

"My turn!" Aiden said, rushing in to hug Derek quickly, before running out the front door with his lunch.

Penelope watched as Derek's eyes watered in spite of himself. Aiden had been horribly abused by his mother's boyfriend and hadn't hugged Derek since he'd arrived. Derek had learned to approach slowly with Britta and with Marcus, their other foster son, that he had to earn trust before he earned hugs.

"Derek, I have practice after school," Marcus called, tying his shoes. "Don't forget!"

The kids chose to call them different things. Derek and Penelope had both said it was fine to call them Mom, Dad, or by their names. Whatever the children were more comfortable with was fine with them. Britta had started by calling them Derek and Penelope, but she'd changed over to Dad and Mom shortly after. Marcus sometimes called them by both intermittently. Aiden called Penelope "Mom," but Derek by his given name.

"I didn't," Derek said with utmost sincerity to his ten year old son. "What kind of coach would I be if I forgot lacrosse practice?"

That always made Penelope giggle. Out of all the sports, lacrosse was one Derek knew nothing about. He'd been so excited when he'd heard Marcus was into sports, and had actually groaned audibly when he'd heard it was _lacrosse_. Still, he'd offered to coach, and did his best, like he'd taught his team members to do.

Nevertheless, his team was awful, but they loved him anyway.

"'Kay," Marcus said, giving a quick hug. "Goodbye, Dad."

"Bye, son," he said.

Marcus stopped and gave Penelope a hug, as did Britta, before she darted out the door, and all three children of the Morgan home were out the door.

"Whew!" Pen said, heaving a sigh of relief. "Now to get _us _out the door..."

Derek gave her a wolfish grin as he walked over and pulled her into his arms. "Maybe not so quick..."

"Hmmm...Hotch will not be happy with us," she said, leaning her head back so he could kiss her neck.

"He understands that we need a break once in awhile for some lovin'. We have three kids," he replied, and then laughed. "That's enough for any man to understand!"

She tensed in his arms a little bit. "Enough, like that's all you want? You don't want more kids?"

"No, not that, honey," he said. "More would be fine. I mean, we just fostered Aiden, and—"

"Derek, I'm pregnant," she interrupted, looking up into his eyes, her eyes full of hope and joy.

For the first time since she'd known him, the first time in _eight years_, he was speechless. It made her a little nervous.

"D, I know you said a long time ago you didn't need a baby, and I know you have been fine with older kids, and—"

Derek interrupted her this time by kissing her. A long moment later, he lifted his lips and murmured, "I'm ecstatic, sweetheart. I can barely believe it."

"Believe it," she answered, nodding. "Seven months from now, we will have a crying baby to add to the brood."

"Let's celebrate," he said, scooping her up in his arms and taking the stairs two at a time.

She giggled. He was right; Hotch would most likely understand this reason, too!


End file.
